Home
by purplenutellaaaa
Summary: She's had a rough life. All she wants is to see her father again. All she wants is to feel loved again. Will going home help her find that? Or will home prove to be too much for her to handle?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello my beautiful readers! Yes, it is I, Alaina, back from the dead! Happy 7 years of Austin & Ally! :) **

**I'm not sure what possessed me to write this. I've had an outline of this story for 2 years now and I just haven't had the want to write it. But, something came over me tonight.**

 **This will be a short multi chapter story. I hope you all enjoy! :)**

* * *

Jail is cold. And dark. And lonely. My own thoughts are like a siren in my ear. How in the _world_ did I get myself into this situation? I know I haven't exactly made the right decisions in my life, but I never thought I would have ended up here. I never thought I would have had to stare at these bare, grey walls for hours upon hours. I never thought I would have had to call my _mom_ to come bail me out. I guess… I guess this all started _because_ of my mom. _She_ was the one to take me away from my home. From the only place that ever made me happy.

Boy, was I happy. I had _two_ parents that loved me more than anything, three friends that were my whole world and that talking Barbie Happy Family House. Nothing could have made my five-year-old life any better. And I never thought that anything could ruin it, either. But… I guess I was wrong.

I remember the day it all began. Dez, Trish, Austin and I were in my backyard, playing family in my treehouse. We were laughing as hard as we possibly could about… whatever 5 year olds laugh about. Oh, I remember! Austin and I had kissed on the lips and Trish and Dez were making fun of us. But we were only playing the parts of mom and dad, so we _obviously_ had to. So, since they were making fun of us, we thought it was only fair that they kissed on the lips, too. They both looked straight at each other, shook their heads and said "EWWWWWWW!" in unison. After laughing about that for a good chunk of time, we started to hear a lot of yelling coming from the kitchen.

Stealthily (or so we thought), we made our way to the bay window, crouched down, and tried to spy on my parents to see what all the commotion was about. There, we saw my mom holding her head in her hands while shaking her shoulders up and down. She was obviously crying, but I didn't know that at the time. My dad had his back facing her, leaning against the counter with his left hand and holding his forehead with his right. His mouth was moving, but we couldn't hear any of the words coming out. Dez attempted to squoosh his ear to the window to see if that would help, but in doing so, he bumped it and got the attention of my parents.

We all slammed against the ground, hoping they didn't see us. But they did… My dad slowly opened the back door and told us it was time to come inside. My mom's back was now facing us, I assume to keep us from seeing her tear streaked face. My dad looked defeated. This was one of the strangest sights I had ever seen. In front of me, my parents were happy. Why were they acting like this? I asked dad what was wrong and why mom was crying, but he just shrugged and told me that everything was fine. I believed him.

But… as time went on, I started to become more aware of my parents' behavior towards each other. Weeks turned into months and I noticed that they were distancing themselves more and more. Some nights, I would get out of bed to get myself a glass of water and see my dad asleep on the couch. I asked my mom why he did that one day on the way to kindergarten, and she said that he thought it was more comfortable than the bed. That made absolutely no sense to me, but I didn't question it. I could tell my curiosity was beginning to make her anxious.

Fast forward a couple weeks later, my mom wakes me up by telling me that we're taking a trip. That got me straight out of bed! I loved road trips more than chocolate chip cookies. I rushed to get all of my necessities together. That being my purple, sparkly sneakers, my teddy bear and my music note necklace that my dad had given to me for my 6th birthday that year. I ran down the stairs and out the door to the car after mom had yelled for me. Once my foot hit the pavement, I knew something was off. Where was dad? Why did mom have a lot of big and bulky stuff in the car? Why was there only room for me and her? Before I could get a word out, she picked me up and stuck me in my car seat. She quickly started the car and began to back out of the driveway. She told me not to be scared. That we were moving to a new place and starting a new life.

That's when I first started to resent my mother. I know I was only six and that I couldn't comprehend much, but come on! You could have at least let me say _goodbye_ to my friends and my _father!_ I don't care what the hell happened between you two, you could have let your _only_ daughter hug her dad. He was the most important person in my life. And… She took me away from him…

Plainfield, Indiana sucks. It sucked when we moved here and it has sucked every day since. I constantly think about Miami. About home. I constantly think about what life would have been like if we had stayed. If I still talked to Trish, Dez and Austin. If my parents still loved each other…

My mom wasted _no_ time getting back in the game. Not even a month after moving, she got me a baby sitter so she could go on a date with this "really sweet guy." He dumped her in front of the house that night. No idea why. She never told me. The only reason I know is because my baby sitter and I spied on them when we heard their car doors slam. She walked in the house and bluntly told me to go to bed.

After forcing me to live in Indiana, my relationship with my mom was obviously never the best. I firmly believe she was not meant to be a single parent. Maybe not even a parent at all. She treated me as if I was always a second thought to her. She made it seem like I was a burden to her. Like her life would have been _so_ much better if I wasn't in it. Any time she asked me to do a chore in the house or get something for her, I would do it. I wanted to please her. After all, she was my only parent. The only person I could seek guidance and wisdom from. She was, by default, the most important person in my life. But, she always criticized me. I could never do anything right. I was always a disappointment.

Around the time I turned 13 was when things went from bad to worse. My mom started to bring this guy home. Stan. What a stupid name. It's so bland. Of course, it does suit him. He talks in the softest, deepest monotoned voice that makes you want to slam your head against a wood panel every time he mentions the way to make toothpaste go inside the tube. We were eating spaghetti that night, Stan was complementing almost everything about my mom and I was gagging at every single one. You could tell he just wanted to get in her pants. Ugh. I zoned out after the 9th complement. Something about how he likes the way her eyelids move when she blinks...? After a couple more minutes, what felt like hours, I heard my mom giggle and say something that made my blood boil. "Lester never did that." Excuse me? Don't you _dare_ bring my father into this conversation! Stan does not deserve to know about him! Dad does not _deserve_ to have his name slung in the mud just because you wanna get laid! I threw my napkin on the table and stormed up to my room. But, not before calling my mom a bitch.

Needless to say, I was grounded for a month.

I never really had any close friends. I tried to look Trish up on Facebook one time, but didn't have any luck. I tried making friends when I reached high school, but everyone was always so fake. I would tell them something from my past and they would turn it around on me. After a while, I just kinda grew numb to it. I blocked out whatever shit people would say about me. That is, until I heard what Carter Reed was saying about me. He called me a slut so I called him a man-hoe. We couldn't keep our hands off of each other that day. For almost a whole year, mom would not stop hounding me about him and how she "doesn't know anything about him or his parents" as if she had cared about that kinda stuff before. So, last night, I brought him home to let him meet my sorry excuse for a mother. Once dinner was over and Carter had left, my mom loudly voiced her opinion to me. "That boy is too dangerous for you." I rolled my eyes and exhaled in the most dramatic way possible. I flew off the handle, telling her that I am 17 and that she has no right to tell me who I should and should not date. How I've basically been raising myself while she's off on a cruise every month with Stan. How life would be so much better if I were with dad.

I ran out the door and called Carter to come back and pick me up. Within minutes, his car was blazing in front of me. I jumped in, glancing back at the door. My mom didn't care what the hell I was doing. She didn't even come back to ask where I was going. "Screw her." I said out loud. Carter laughed as he slammed his foot on the gas. I knew he knew what to do. He's known me long enough to know what I want. And I wanted to do something reckless. Anything.

We ended up at Walmart. We walked around for a bit and then I saw something. ...And I acted on impulse. "Hey, Carter, dare me to put this watermelon under my shirt?"

He laughed and sliced the air, taunting me. "You don't have the guts."

I smirked, looked in both directions to make sure the coast was clear, and stuffed the watermelon under my shirt. A moment after, an old lady started to walk past us with her shopping cart. Carter quickly put his hands over the watermelon and started to talk to it like a baby. I couldn't help but let out a couple of giggles. He was kinda cute doing that. We continued to walk around the store. Some people stared us down, others stopped us in our tracks to ask us when the baby was due. We told them that it was twin boys and that they should be here any day now. We stopped by the jewelry counter and I saw the most beautiful earrings I had ever seen in my life. I smiled as wide as my cheeks would allow.

This time, Carter smirked. "You want them?"

I nodded. "Nothing would make me happier."

"Then I'll get them for you, baby." He kissed my forehead and as quick as I blinked, he jumped over the counter, grabbed the earrings, took my hand and started to bolt.

Two police officers took notice to the two teenagers running towards to door and my watermelon baby falling out and smashing against the floor. "Hey, stop!" They yelled. We started to run faster and faster until we reached the car. Carter floored it and whipped onto the road with blue flashing lights trailing behind us. I had never felt so alive in my life. Here I was, driving away from the cops with the love of my life.

...Holy shit... I was driving away from the cops with the _love_ _of my life._ I needed to reevaluate everything in my life. I gulped as the sirens became louder and the lights became brighter. I yelled at Carter and told him that he needed to stop. He needed to pull over. If we kept running, we would get in more trouble than we already were. He scoffed and told me to stop being such a pussy. I kept yelling and screaming his name. I needed him to stop the car. Eventually, I became so petrified that I just stopped. I couldn't even get one squeak out of my voice. Carter was getting so much joy out of it. He was so happy. He turned the corner, thinking he had finally lost them, when 4 parked cop cars made him come to a screeching halt.

And so, we're back to the beginning. My thoughts are as loud as a siren in my ear. What have I done with my life? I'm 17 years old... and I'm sitting in jail. How do I come back from this? How can I make things right?

"Ally Dawson." Shouts an officer as he unlocks the jail cell door. Thank goodness! He hands me a bag with my phone in it and I rush out of that hell hole.

Never have I been so happy to see my mom. Not because I missed her or anything. She's just the only person that could have gotten me out of that situation. So for that, I _am_ thankful. There she stands, arms crossed and death glare on 10. "Ally Dawson, I cannot _believe_ you! _Arrested_? For a _car chase?_ I told you that boy was nothing but trouble. I do not want you seeing him ever again, do you hear me?"

I bite my tongue as hard as I can. If I say something - anything - I will literally never hear the end of it. She will _never_ let me live this down as it is, so why add to it? It's not gonna help. I'm stuck here. Forever. She scolds my ear off all the way to the car, all the way home, the whole time I'm getting ready for bed and probably 30 minutes after I actually get in bed. She finally got too tired to even say goodnight, so she left and went to her room. I lay sprawled out, staring at the dark ceiling. My life sucks. Everything sucks. At this point in my life, I don't think _anyone_ cares about me. My stupid mother, my stupid probably-soon-to-be step dad, my stupid boyfriend and even my stupid actual father. I've been so caught up in hating my mom, I never realized that my dad hasn't _ever_ tried to reach out to me. Tried to contact me. Why? All I have from him is that stupid musical note necklace. He gave that to me and told me that he'll always be there for me. Where are you, dad? Why aren't you here?

I shove the blankets off me and head for the kitchen. A glass of water always calms me down. As I'm gulping the last drop, I notice a white envelope sitting on the stove. It's addressed to me from... Lester Dawson... I shakily pull the sealed paper and begin to open it up.

 _My dearest Ally,_

 _I'm not even sure what to write anymore. I miss you so, so much._ _There's not a day that goes_

 _by where I'm not thinking of you, or that beautiful laugh that you have. I wish I could hear your laugh._

 _I wish I could see your smile. I know you've grown up to be such an amazing woman, and I'm so sorry_

 _that I have not been able to witness it. It breaks my heart to think about how much of your life I've missed._

 _I hope your life continues to treat you well and I hope you have all the love that you deserve._

 _You are such a special girl, Ally. Don't let any kind of negativity bring you down._

 _Always with love and hopes to see you again,_

 _Dad_

What. The. Hell. He's not sure what to write anymore? What does that mean? Has he written to me before? Where are _those_ letters?! I start to scour the kitchen to see what I can find. I cling and clang everything I come in contact with, but I don't care. I _need_ to know if he's written to me before. I check in cabinets, in the fridge, behind the fridge, anywhere! I then hear the squeak of the floor. I turn around to see a tired Stan. Ugh. Why does he even live here?

"What are you doing?" He asks mid yawn, scratching his head.

I roll my eyes and continue searching. "Nothing."

"You're looking for those letters, aren't you?"

I stop in my tracks. What did he just say? I slowly turn around to face him. "How do you-"

"They're stuffed in a white cardboard box in the coat closet." He says just before exiting and heading back to their room.

I'm so shocked that I honestly don't believe him. But... I've got nothing to lose. I bolt for the coat closet, open the door and shove everything on the top shelf out of the way. There it is... Just like he said. I go through it, note by note. There has to be over 200 letters! He wrote to me every month, every birthday, every thanksgiving, every Christmas. The first letter he wrote is dated June 19th, 2007. The day we left... He reached out to me. He contacted me. And mom... _kept_ him away from me.

That's it. This is the _last_ straw. I am _so_ _sick_ of her constant being! She controls every move I make even though she couldn't care less about those moves. _S_ _he kept me from ever making contact with anyone from Miami, including my dad._ I am out of here. I'm going _home._


	2. Chapter 2

In an almost blind rage, I storm to my room and shove whatever I deem necessary into my backpack. Phone, charger, wallet, hoodie, deodorant and my musical note necklace. I fling the strap around my shoulder and make my way towards the front door. Just as my hand touches the knob, I hear the sound of the creaking floor once again. I close my eyes, breathe a sigh and turn around, ready to have my head chewed off by my mother. I'm flushed with relief when I see that it's Stan, but I still end up gulping from the anxiety. "Y... You're not going to tell mom... right?" Why do I even bother to ask this? Of course, he's going to tell mom. He's at her every beckon call 24/7 and practically worships the ground she walks on. But then... why would he tell me where to find the other letters? Maybe he was just trying to get on my good side and never thought I would actually do anything with it. If that were the case then, he's stupider than I give him credit for.

He stares at me for a long time with a tired and apathetic look on his face. I stare right back at him, trying desperately to read his mind. He finally breaks his concentration by glancing down the hallway but then goes right back to me. "Tell your mom what, exactly?" He says in the quietest of whispers and with the smallest of smiles. In this instant, I have the utmost respect for this man. I smirk, solute him, and walk out the door.

I don't have a plan. I don't know how I'm going to get there, or how I'll manage to even convince my dad to let me stay, but I'll be damned if I don't try. I pull out my phone and start to look up Carter's name, but I stop myself. The events that took place last night made me realize that he doesn't give a shit about me. I was merely his toy. He was bound to break me... and he did. So, boyfriend's out of the equation, what now? I could take one of the cars. We do have five of them for no apparent reason. How in the _world_ does Stan make so much money making tubes of toothpaste? Whatever. I hop in the Wrangler, open the visor for the extra set of keys and begin my journey.

17 and a half hours gives you a lot of time to think. My father and I haven't seen each other in 11 years. We're both completely different people than we were back then. How do I expect this to go? He could very well have a whole other family. A new wife, a couple of kids, maybe a dog or a cat running around. I mean sure, I'm his first daughter and of course, he would want to keep in contact with me, but how naive is it of me to think he hasn't moved on? In my eyes, he was everything a good husband should be. Surely, some other woman has snatched him up. On one hand, I would love nothing more than for my father to be happily re-married. He deserves for someone to love and respect him in the way my mother never did. But, on the other hand, I _hope_ he hasn't moved on. I want to show up at his door step and be the only thing on his mind. No other distractions. Just him and me against the world.

What am I even going to do when I get there? Obviously, the first thing on my list is to see my dad. But what then? If things go well, should I seek out Dez, Trish and Austin? Is it also naive of me to think that they're still there and are all still friends? I _know_ things won't go back to how they were in Kindergarten, but wouldn't that be neat if they did? If everything was _just_ as I left it? If I could jump back in and hit the play button? Perhaps it's all wishful thinking...

And my _mom._ Holy crap. If my mom does the opposite of what I expect her to do and she actually _care_... What'll happen then? Will she go all the way to Miami and demand I come back with her? Will she hide me away and lock me in a tower until I'm 34? Okay, maybe she won't do _that_... But... I wouldn't put it past her, either.

I've been going off of adrenaline for 6 hours. I _need_ sleep. I pull off, get the hoodie out of my backpack and recline my seat as far as it'll go. I have slept in my car before, so it's nothing new. However, it is a _little bit_ harder to shut your brain off when you're in a sketchy gas station parking lot in Ardmore, Tennessee at 4 in the morning...

4 hours later and I'm back on the road. I'm getting so anxious now. My thoughts are starting to turn from positive to negative. What if my dad gets one good look at me and then pushes me away? What if he doesn't actually _want_ me? I've struggled with the feeling of rejection almost my entire life. If it didn't come from my mother, it came from my classmates, and my music teacher and my boyfriend. They _all_ expected me to be one thing. And when I proved to be something... _someone_ different, they tried to change me or just walked away from me entirely. I don't think I'll be able to take it if my own father rejects me.

After passing the Florida state line, I take one last look at the address he wrote down in the top left corner of the envelope. It's my old address. He never moved. And for some strange reason, that makes me happy. Just one more thing that ties me back to my happy place. When I finally turn onto his street, I'm taken aback. Everything looks the same but simultaneously different. I guess that's what age does. I remember these surrounding houses to be so much bigger than they actually are. I thought we lived in a neighborhood full of mansions.

I pull up into the driveway, beginning to freak out. I don't think I've ever been more nervous than I am right now, nor have I ever been so vulnerable. I take a giant gulp, throw the backpack over my shoulder once again and reach for the handle of the Jeep. It's now or never, Ally. My mouth starts to get dry and I hear my heart beat louder and faster with each step I take towards the door. Beads of sweat start to form at the top of my forehead and my stomach ties itself in knots. My clammy hand makes a fist, shaking its way up to the door. 3 knocks. 20 seconds. My heart now drops to my stomach, watching the door knob shake as he unlocks it. The hinges screech out, letting everyone in the neighborhood know that Lester Dawson is out of WD-40. He and I make eye contact for the first time in eleven years. Tears begin to flood my vision. I open my mouth in an attempt to tell him who I am, but I begin to get too overwhelmed. I'm in _way_ over my head. Why the hell am I even here? Why am I forcing myself back into this man's life?

Before another thought has the opportunity to enter my brain, I'm engulfed in... probably _the most_ loving and meaningful hug I have ever experienced. "Ally." He says just before kissing the top of my head.

A smile emerges onto my face as my arms fly around him. "Hi, dad." A sense of relief and calmness washes over me. This is everything I hoped it would be.

He finally breaks our hug and grabs the tops of my shoulders. "What on _earth_ are you doing here? How did you get here? W-"

"I can explain everything."

And so, that's what I did. He opened up his door, offered me his famous pb&j sandwich and listened. Actually _listened._ Not just halfway heard the words that were coming out of my mouth, but took to heart _everything_ that was being said. I told him how much mom distanced herself from me once we moved. I told him how people would make fun of me for not knowing what snow was. I told him about Stan and how mom is essentially just a gold-digger. I told him how I started to do anything for _attention._ I even told him about the other night. About stealing and running from the cops and getting arrested. I word vomited. And I've never felt so good.

He's quiet. He looks heartbroken. I'm sure it's a lot to take in from your estranged daughter. I'm sure he feels almost helpless. "A-Ally, sweetheart... I'm _so sorry_ I was never there for you." He scoots closer to me on the couch and takes my hand in his. "I wish... I wish I had the chance to take it all back and right my wrong."

Right his wrong? "Dad... What _exactly_ happened? Why did you and mom get a divorce?" Part of me doesn't want to know. Part of me believes that if I find out the truth, the reason mom took me away, then I'll lose that little sliver of hope I have. The hope that there is actually _some_ good that runs through my veins. The hope that at least _one_ of my parents cares about me. I'm terrified that if he tells me what really went down, I won't be able to look at him with the same admiration I do now.

He closes his eyes while he takes in a deep breath. I can tell he's pretty scared to tell me, too. "I had a gambling problem, Ally." His eyes flutter back open and stare straight at his now twiddling thumbs. "It started back in high school. A group of guys and I would meet in my buddy's basement every Friday night for poker. It started out innocent, with just the chips and some of our snacks here and there. But as time went on, we got bored with that and went to betting actual cash. Granted, we didn't have a lot of it since we were only Sophomores." He chuckles ever so slightly, remembering back to, what I would guess, how he was able to get all the money he did. "Anyway..." He interrupts his pause. "Your mom gave me an ultimatum when we started dating. I either keep her and quit while I'm ahead, or lose her and have my parents find out, which would in turn put me in Military school. So, I gave it up. And I was _happy_. Your mom was... she was absolutely wonderful. In every sense of the word. However, things started to change fast. I think I got way too overwhelmed with life and gambling was a good distraction. Not to mention some income if you're good at it. We had just bought the house, I was in between jobs and you were on the way."

And that's when it hit me. It's _my_ fault. _I'm_ the reason my dad was pushed over the edge. I haven't even heard the rest of the story and I already know the ending. I try my best to hide the anxiety that's welling up inside of me, but I obviously don't do such a great job. My dad quickly takes my hand, looks me straight in the eye and assures me that it wasn't my fault.

"Ally, it was bound to happen. It's an addiction and I was already in too deep. _You_ were the reason I _stopped_ again. _You_ were the reason I _never_ picked it back up." I feel an overwhelming amount of comfort. Not only in my dad's words, but in his voice and his actions. Gosh, _why_ wasn't _he_ the parent that raised me? _Why_ was I deprived of such a loving human being? "Your mom wasn't aware that I got back into it. She thought I was off job hunting... I hate myself for lying to her, Ally. I lied to her for four months _straight._ It all hit the fan one night, though. I lost. $500.069. That's when reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I was practically throwing my life out the window. I _had_ to change. I had to be a dad worthy of my baby girl's love. The thought of looking into your eyes the day you were born and you seeing the man I had become _killed_ me. So, I made a vow and I stuck to it. Your mom found out a couple weeks later when we received a statement from the bank. We had a huge fight and she ended up staying at your aunt Sophia's for a couple of days. But, Ally, you changed everything. The moment you were born, something clicked in us. We both promised that we would do whatever it takes to keep our marriage strong so that you could have something to look up to."

Now my emotions are turning into resentment. For both of them. They made such a selfless decision because they cared about how I grew up. At what point in time did I become a burden rather than a priority? When did they stop fighting for me? Why couldn't they keep their own damn promise? I want to interject. I want to yell. I want throw a tantrum to show just how much they screwed me over. How I can never get back the amount of time I lost being shoved to the sidelines by my own mother. The amount of times I got jealous of all the kids in my class that had both their parents. The amount of times I wished I was never born. But I'm compelled to stay silent. Why should I ruin the small relationship I've already built with my dad? He listened to me. The _least_ I could do is listen to him.

"I was finally able to find steady work while your mom stayed home with you. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to support the three of us, considering I wiped out a good portion of our savings. So, when you were about 6 months old, we put you in daycare and your mom got a job. She began to be the one with the steady income. My company ended up closing and laid everyone off. While I was in search of another job, I would do yard work for the neighbors every once in a while. It wasn't much but it did pay for your 4th birthday present."

I giggle as the image of a pink Barbie bike is pulled from the back of my memory. That, aside from the moment my dad gave me my necklace, was one of my favorite childhood memories. I squealed as loud as I possibly could and hugged it in pure joy. Dad smiled as he picked me up and started to show me how to ride it. For hours, all he did was chase me up and down our street.

"Anyway, to make an already long story a bit shorter... I couldn't hold down a job for more than 2 months. Your mom was amazing. She got a second job and still managed to do laundry and spend time with you. Your dad... I was a dead beat. I guess I had lost faith in myself. That's the only way I know how to put it. Your mom hit a breaking point when she saw $1000 had been withdrawn from our account. Our debit card had been hacked but she wouldn't believe me. And I couldn't blame her. I lied to her before. I could easily do it again. She lost what little trust she had in me."

I stand to my feet out of frustration. "But, you said you hadn't picked it up since before I was born! What happened to that promise?"

"Circumstances change, Ally. But the heart behind that promise didn't. Your mom didn't see me fit to help raise you. And, again, I couldn't blame her. I wasn't even capable of being able to afford a bag of frozen chicken nuggets. Sure, your mother's reasons for taking you away were different than mine, but I agreed with her. I wasn't worthy of you. I thought your mother could give you a better life than I ever could. I was weighing down your mother and, in turn, weighing you down."

I feel like my heart is being stabbed in 15 different places. What about the day she took me? What happened then? Did he know? Did he not even want to see me? Did he fight for me? The hot tears start to burn my eyes. "Why didn't you say goodbye?"

"Believe me, honey, I _wanted_ to. More than _anything._ You were the only light in my life and you were being taken away from me. But... the evidence was too much in your mom's favor and they granted her full custody. I guess she took that as absolutely no contact. I didn't even know you two were gone until a couple hours after you had left. I broke down the moment I walked into your room and noticed you weren't there. You weren't sleeping soundly under your Blue's Clues sheets. You were gone. I have never felt more empty than I did that day. And... as _horrible_ as that day was for me, it changed me. I got my act together. I started a job at this music company, saved my money and worked my way up. I tried for years to get in contact with your mom. I tried to explain how ready I was to be in your life again. But she refused and eventually blocked my number completely. My only other hope was to try to send you those letters." He looks into my eyes, beginning with the sincerest of smiles, but then slowly fades into a gloomy frown. "I do wish things had been different. I wish I knew she was going to keep them from you. I wish I knew how she turned on you. Gosh, Ally. I would have given my _life_ to keep you if I knew all that."

Part of me wishes I never asked. But the other part? It's happy. Proud even. If my dad can live through what he did and end up redeeming himself, why can't I do the same? Why do I choose to roll in self pity, trying to get myself in trouble to feel any type of attention? I take one good look at my dad before I hug him as tight as my arms will allow. Yeah, I'm proud. I release the hug and wipe away the tear on my cheek. "So, do you still work for that music company?"

He smirks and tells me to get in the car. "Do I still _work_ for that music company? Ally, I _own_ that music company."


End file.
